


Cameo

by heather_in_hell



Category: Heathers: The Musical - Murphy & O'Keefe
Genre: Angst, Brief mention of death/murder, F/M, Mentions of Mental Illness, cursing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-25
Updated: 2015-08-25
Packaged: 2018-04-17 03:17:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4650231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heather_in_hell/pseuds/heather_in_hell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You’re awful and I hate you for it, but I also can’t help but miss you, which makes me hate myself even more.” It was the first time she'd seen him since his death.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cameo

**Author's Note:**

> I always wondered if JD made an appearance as a 'ghost' in Veronica's life after his death, like Heather and Kurt and Ram did (at least they did in the musical version). Thus, this fic was born. I tried to highlight the complicated and conflicting emotions Veronica felt about JD, because even though he was destructive and manipulative and overall an awful person, I still think she would have missed him at least little bit, because he was important to her and important people tend to stick with you even when they're no longer apart of your life anymore, for better or for worse. Wow, run on sentence. Anyway, thanks for reading, enjoy.

The visions didn't bother her as much as they used to. Veronica had gotten used to them over the past few months following Heather, Kurt, and Ram’s deaths.

The first time she’d seen Heather sporting her red, silk kimono with a blue stain on her tongue in the middle of the hallway at school, she’d wanted to laugh hysterically. Her life was basically becoming a high school, shoulder-padded, lipstick donning version of _Macbeth_. Those tedious english lessons proved themselves relatable in Veronica’s life after all.

Heather wasn’t exactly the “haunting” type of ghost per say, not like the ones in horror flicks that can move shit with their mind and jump out at you through walls. Instead, she appeared calmly and casually in places that Veronica least expected a ghost to appear. Heather watched her in the hallways at school, waited for her in the parking lot, nagged over her shoulder while she brushed her teeth and hair in the morning. And then Kurt and Ram appeared shortly after, dressed in their underwear and still as obnoxious as ever, and Veronica was almost certain she was losing her mind. It was the perfect curse: Veronica didn’t feel guilty enough to wish they were alive again or to fess up that she had helped commit their murders, but just guilty enough to envision them stalking her in her day to day life. They were always there; a constant reminder of what she had done.

She was indifferent towards them now. It didn’t matter if she was going insane or not (although she decided for herself long ago that she would always be fucked up), because it wasn’t like she could talk to someone about her problems. Just imagining a session with a therapist cracked her up: “You see, doc, I’ve been having vivid hallucinations of three people I helped murder. Is that normal?”  
It was just something she was going to have to put up with, and even though they couldn’t terrorize Westerberg High anymore, Veronica thought of how completely unfair it was that _she_ was the one who was stuck with their irritating selves.

 _That’s the price for committing murder, I suppose_ , Veronica thought.

Veronica would’ve loved to say her life was normal again, but saying that would’ve been just as much of a lie as the life she’d been living. There were nights of waking up shaking and sweating from nightmares of dead ex-boyfriends and young bodies buried in rubble; and some nights of no sleeping at all. There were days when she would blow off Martha after school to go to her room and stare blankly at the walls with no thoughts occupying her mind because the thought of doing anything else exhausted her.

There were nights like tonight, when Veronica would stay in on a Friday night and re-read old books just to fill her head with something, anything. Her parents were out and she had the whole house to herself, and yet she decided to spend her time cooped up in her dim lit room, not because she particularly wanted to, but because she couldn’t think of anything else to do that would give her satisfaction at the moment.

She tossed the novel she was reading onto the floor, sighed, and rose from her bed. Her joints cracked and ached as a result of being in the same position since she’d gotten home from school. Veronica stretched to relieve her body and walked to the huge bookshelf she had against the wall, scanning the shelf for anything interesting to read again for the millionth time. Her eyes stopped on a small leather bound book. She pulled it out of its spot on the shelf and opened it.  
Her old diary. Technically not old, just unused. It’s funny how quickly people forgot about things once they were done with them. Veronica wished she could have that same mindset.

She flicked through the pages, not reading anything in particular. It was hard to believe the events written inside had only taken place a few months ago considering how quickly everything began and ended. It was almost like a bizarre dream, one of those dreams that were so strange and horrifying that it kept you thinking about it for ages after. Or rather, a nightmare.

“Taking a trip down memory lane, Veronica?” a snooty voice said into her ear. Veronica continued to look down at the book and said nothing; there was no use arguing with Heather anymore. Sometimes she’d give into it if nothing for her own amusement or if Heather said something so ridiculous that it was impossible for Veronica to ignore. But as time went on, she discovered that ignoring Heather would cause her to get bored, and she’d leave eventually.

“Wonder what other stuff’s written in there,” came Ram’s cocky voice, followed by Kurt’s equally cocky voice. “I bet she wrote about her raging lady boner for Heather Chandler when she wasn’t dead!” he said. Kurt and Ram chuckled and fist bumped each other. Veronica rolled her eyes. _Yeah…you wish, sport._

“I never knew you kept a diary. Not the best thing to use when you have a history of killing people, you know.”

Veronica jumped, dropping the book to the floor. She’d recognize that voice anywhere.

“Greetings and salutations.”

JD sat on the edge of Veronica’s bed, looking nonchalant as ever. His forearms rested on his knees, his shoulders hunched from the position. His hair was more tattered than she remembered and his clothing showed stains of dust, ash, and blood. And even in her stupid visions, she still saw him with his giant trench coat enveloping his body.

She had never seen him before.

Only Heather; only Kurt and Ram. Veronica could handle them. It wasn’t ideal and if given the option, she’d get rid of them in a heartbeat. But JD? It was the first time she’d seen him since his death. Now she’d seriously have to consider meds or something. Why was JD suddenly making a special guest appearance months after his death?

Veronica simply stared at him, blinking when necessary and trying to wrack her mind for anything intelligent to say. She raised her hand to her forehead to check for any signs of a fever.

“Thought you’d be a little more happy to see me,” JD said, but not unkindly. His tone wasn’t sinister; not like the last time she’d seen him. He watched her with amused eyes and a smug grin. He looked exactly like the JD Veronica had met in the Westerberg cafeteria and again at the 7-Eleven. He looked like what Veronica wished he could've remained.

Veronica gulped in attempts to soothe her dry throat. “ ‘Happy’ isn’t the exact word I’d use,” Veronica breathed. “Try ‘confused’ or ‘weirded-the-fuck-out’.”

JD smiled and shook his head. “You always were the master of words. Might I suggest a ‘myriad of emotions’ would be a simpler and broader term to use.”

Veronica scowled at him. Myriad. Asshole.

“Fuck you,” she spat.

“Hey, hey,” JD said, holding up his hands in defence. “Easy. Just trying to get you to lighten up.”

“And you think reminding me of the person I helped kill will make me smile?” Veronica asked, almost laughing now.

“Clearly I struck the wrong chord,” JD said. “Sorry.”

Veronica rubbed her hands over her face and sighed. “I can’t deal with this right now. Why are you here oh my god get out fucking dammit-”

“I’m sorry, okay?” JD interrupted. Veronica opened her eyes and saw that he’d stood up from the bed. He looked down at the floor and fidgeted with his hands stuffed into his pockets. “Listen, Veronica. I did a lot of shit that I don’t regret. But I never wanted this for you, alright? Hell, I’d be shooting myself if I had to spend the rest of my life with Blondie and her pet gorillas nagging in my ear.”

“Like you’re any more fun to be around, Red Dawn,” Heather scoffed from somewhere behind Veronica. She ignored her.

Veronica shook her head in disbelief, her face becoming hot. “What are you doing here?”

JD’s eyes became sullen, but a sad smile played on his lips. He looked down and scuffed his shoe against the floor. “I don’t know,” he replied. “I guess you just needed to hear that. From me, personally.”

Veronica realized how stupid it was to ask a creation from her own mind to explain itself. Maybe she was a full-on lunatic now and figured she could make sense of the impossible, but that didn’t change the fact that JD looked and sounded so real, more realistic and tangible than Heather or Kurt or Ram could ever look. They had almost become comical accessories to Veronica’s life at this point; caricatures that offered snarky comments throughout her day. And yet, with all the damage JD caused, as wrong as he was about the world…he felt the most real to her out of all of them.

There was a long moment of silence before Veronica spoke. “Do you ever regret it?”

“I told you,” JD said, “I don’t-”

“Not that,” Veronica interjected. “I meant…do you ever regret dying?”

JD looked into Veronica’s eyes. Her head felt like it was swimming, but only slightly. More like she was treading water than drowning. “No,” JD answered. “There was nothing for me. What I wanted for myself wasn’t what the world wanted. And if I couldn’t have you, what else did I have?”

She closed her eyes for a few moments and just breathed, trying to keep herself from becoming hysterical. “That’s awful,” she said. “You’re awful.”

“I know,” JD said, moving closer to her slowly as not to startle her away.

“You’re awful and I hate you for it, but I also can’t help but miss you, which makes me hate _myself_ even more.” Veronica’s voice trembled now.

“I know,” JD repeated, his voice nothing above a whisper. He took his right hand out of his pocket and reached for Veronica’s. She flinched, feeling a mixture of fright, resentment, yearning, and curiosity. She didn’t know whether or not she should move away, but even if she decided she wanted to, her whole body weight felt as though it was bolted in place. She watched his hand attentively, like everything was moving in slow motion. He hesitated, but eventually attempted to grasp her hand in his.

She felt nothing.

She didn’t now why she was surprised. She should have figured she’d feel nothing. Heather and Kurt and Ram never touched her, and even when Heather would occasionally flick her hair to insult how Veronica wasn’t taking care of it, she never felt any physical sensation.

And yet, with JD, a part of her hoped she would.

“I can’t see you,” Veronica said. “I don’t know how I’ll live if I keep seeing you.”

JD shrugged. “Maybe you won’t have to.”

He smiled charmingly, reminding her of when she’d been so intrigued into finding out every little detail of the mysterious JD’s life when she’d first met him when he’d given her that smile. She understood now that there were aspects of JD she wished she never saw. But he smiled at her, and she felt comforted for the first time in months.

Funny how the person who caused such a mess could also temporarily take it all away with just one smile.

“You’ll be fine, Veronica,” he said. She didn’t quite know if she could believe that.

When Veronica woke up the next morning, he was gone. She never saw him again after that night.


End file.
